


why do we breathe?

by Paussam (PaulaWooohooo)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Boys Kissing, I suck at tagging, Lashton - Freeform, M/M, Sad, ashton is kinda depressed, idk what else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 00:19:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1724222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulaWooohooo/pseuds/Paussam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had found himself at this point a lot of times before—a few seconds away from breaking down his pride by calling him, but then remembers how well he has been doing and puts the phone down trying to forget his intentions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	why do we breathe?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, i wrote this a long time ago and decided to modify it a bit :) sorry if there's any mistakes (tell me so I can fix them please), english is not my first language. Enjoy!

The morning of Friday finds Ashton lying on bed with his gaze glued to the ceiling. (…) _and I just can’t pour my heart out to another living thing. I’m a whisper, I’m a shadow, but I’m standing up to sing_ (…) Mick Jagger’s voice strolls around the room, surrounding everything. His phone is over the bedside table and his flow of thoughts is interrupted with the sound of a new message but he decides to ignores it. Shortly another one comes; he ignores it too. Minutes later his phone goes off again, but this time it don’t cease and he knows it’s a call. Ashton holds it between his hands and decides to cut it off, not watching who’s calling but seeing the date; Saturday, July 15. He can’t take it anymore and turn off the device for once and for all.

He doesn’t want to talk to anybody today —well, there’s one exception but he bitterly laughs at the thought, it’ll be stupid, that’s impossible. Ashton used to think he was over it, but last night he realized how lonely he felt in spite of not being alone, he was surrounded by friends and he loved them. But it wasn’t the same, and it’ll never be without him.

He curls up on his side of the bed and instinctively stretch his arm, caressing with his fingers the soft fabric of the sheets. He looked for _his_ warm when his essence had already faded. A heavy sigh left his lips as he embraced himself. After spending some time attempting to keep his breathing even he closed his eyes trying to get some sleep, he wants to keep his mind clear, without emotions, nor memories, or feelings. Ashton wished to become a rock or just fall on some kind of coma and wake up years later, or just go back to the past. Yes, definitely the latter seems better. Anyways, nothing of that’ll ever happen. On the other side, the reminiscence of a lukewarm atmosphere wraps him and mentally swears he can barely feel lightly caresses on the top of his head. The sensation of fingers petting his hair that way makes him feel worse, causing none other than a terrible necessity of crying.

He had found himself at this point a lot of times before—a few seconds away from breaking down his pride by calling him, but then remembers how well he has been doing and puts the phone down trying to forget his intentions. He can’t deny it, he misses him, misses him a lot.

Eventually he allows himself to let go the few tears that still remain at this time of the day, his eyes burns from too many salt but he doesn’t care; the physical pain turns out to be comforting.

Hours later he decides to get out of bed to close the curtains. He was mad with the sun for shining too bright today; he felt as it was making fun of him. ‘ _Don’t frown or you’ll get wrinkles_ ’ he would have said with a small smile and then he’d have shown him his dimples after Ashton soften his expression. A huge nostalgia overwhelms him while he goes back to the bed.

“Why do we breathe, Ashton?” Luke he asked one day. The both of them were lying on the grass of the campus fields during their free period, hand in hand, while others students walked past them. The sky was covered with clouds looking soft as cotton and some sunrays managed to touch the ground, it wasn’t too hot but it wasn’t too cold.

“Well, I guess that our body needs to.”

“Yeah, I know but—I mean, why do you think we need to breath? Why did we have to born with necessities?” questioned. Ashton looked at him with a slight grin; the other boy was looking up, his eyelids were half closed and his pupils were fixed on one of the clouds, probably seeking its shape.

“Hmm, I don’t have idea, Lukey”

“Sometimes I wonder that It made us dependents to have more facilities to die” he turned his head for blue and hazel met half away. “This planet is smaller than we think, do you imagine if it was filled with people, animals and stuff? Probably we wouldn’t have room to be lying here on the grass” he chuckled softly.

“Why do we die then? We do we born if one day we will stop living eventually? We all are going to die some day”

Luke took his time to think before respond.

“I don’t know, I suppose everything should have its own cycle. We born and we die. We came here with a purpose and when we have accomplished it, our time simply has come. The difficult part is to know what is our purpose on this life.”

“We may find it by coincidence” he said and Luke nodded. Ashton felt how the grip on his hand got slightly tighter.

“How do you think it is to die?”

“Oh, it must be a wonderful journey,” he answered thoughtful “without pain, no suffer, but in due time”.

Luke nodded satisfied and snuggled closer to the older boy. The both of them sighed happily and continued to watch the traveler clouds.

“If you die first,” the blue eyed boy started “you’ll wait for me before going up there, right?” he talked so low that he was barely heard by Ashton, but it was enough to feel the insecurity and fear behind his words.

“Never doubt that” he assured and Luke seemed to relax. He leaned in and closed the gap between them. They shared tender touches and sloppy kisses for the rest of their free period, showing how much they cared about the other.

Ashton lets out a scream full of frustration. When he least needs it, his head starts to fill with so many memories that they begin to fall from his ears. It doesn’t hurt that much, his pain seems to be on another phase now, he doesn’t feel the tightness in his chest anymore—or he got used to it. There’s only this kind of hole that can’t be filled with anything else, no matter how hard he tries.

He would have liked that things between them finished well at least. What he experienced with Luke during the time they were together doesn’t compares to anything; he laughed, cried, learned, but above everything, he grow up as a person. Because of that—among other reasons— Luke always will have a place in his heart. This is why he remembers the last time they spoke to each other with such anguish, he wishes that everything would have ended different. Both of them had their eyes full of tears as they yelled each other things they really didn’t mean nor felt. Ashton cried when he returned to his flat alone, Michael was waiting there and let him know how stupid they both were being, so he calmed down sure that it wasn’t over, because Ashton loved Luke and Luke loved Ashton. Of course that Ashton realized later that day how wrong he was, because love is not always enough. They never kissed, talked, or saw each other again.

He was at the point where he didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t hungry or thirsty, he didn’t wanted to go to the bathroom or sleep. The music stopped and he was embraced by the silence—his only company on these days, and it wasn’t because he had shitty friends, in fact, they’re always there but Ashton didn’t want to let them in.

He wanted to touch that blonds locks again, to mess up his hair after the day was over, hug him, feel his scent, hear him sing silly songs whilst in the shower (and leaving a mess in the bathroom), look at that stupid little dance moves he used to do while he cooked, cause bright smiles on his face making his dimples show up, feel the warmth of those soft lips on his skin. He wanted a lot of things, but you can’t always get what you want they say.

All of a sudden Ashton feels his eyes starts to water so much that his tears begin to fall down his face without permission, the sobbing follows them, and at first he tries to hide them but after a while he didn’t even attempted to. He was alone and had the right to be sad (or that’s what he decides). He cries until he no more could. When everything seems to cease, a wound starts to open up again; it feels like somebody is burying its finger on the depths of the flesh without a care of the burn that swell on Ashton, who’s biting his lips so hard to suppress another scream. He feels like he can’t take it no more and let all his progress go to waste; he decides to put his pride aside and starts to look for his cellphone. Once with the device in his hands and on, he calls that person.

“ _Hey! I’m Luke. I guess I can’t talk to you at the moment, sorry, call me later. I hope you have a good day!_ ” even though he wasn’t watching the boy, he knew he was ending the phrase simpering.

Ashton laughed at the last bit, the bastard was wishing him to have a good day when he felt like crap because of him. He dialed again.

“ _Hey! I’m Luke. I guess I can’t talk to you at the moment, sorry, call me later. I hope you have a good day!_ ”

And again.

“ _Hey! I’m Luke. I guess I can’t talk to you at the moment, sorry, call me later. I hope you have a good day!_ ”

And again.

“ _Hey! I’m Luke. I guess I can’t talk to you at the moment, sorry, call me later. I hope you have a good day!_ ”

He dialed countless times curled under the blankets while using an old shirt of the bright blue eyed boy, and he dedicated most of the afternoon to enjoy the sound of his voice, the only melody that could make him forget about everything that was happening at the moment.

He doesn’t hear noises when Calum and Michael enter to his apartment. The dark haired knows where his friend hides his spare key now, and Ashton knows that Calum knows, so he isn’t surprised when he feels somebody taking the blankets away. He finds the two boys standing at the end of the bed.

“Go to take a quick shower and dress up,” Michael commands “you are a mess, mate.”

“I don’t wanna.” He rolled over his side because he doesn’t want to face his life yet.

“You have to.” Calum says.

“No, I don’t have to.” The words came muffled by the pillows “I don’t want to fucking go.”

“Go to take a shower and dress up, we’re leaving soon.” Michael orders again on a severe tone that left Ashton without an option.

When he was ready and the three of them on the lift, Calum and Michael wrap him on a hug and he thinks, in spite of not saying it out loud, that he’s very grateful. This is what he needs, somebody that supports him but that doesn’t indulge him on everything to get his own way, because if not, he’ll never be able to move on by his own.

Before entering he bought some nice flowers with Cal and walks in the middle of his two friends, the three inmersed on a silence agreed without words. Then they finally arrive and Ashton sits in front.

  
 **Lucas Robert Hemmings**

_16/07/1996 - 15/07/2016_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! xx :)


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